the way your words are trapped in poetry. 

you want to dress up your sadness in big words and satisfying rhymes but it's not enough to express what you truly feel. 

you wish you could just spit it out but no one will listen to your insanity if it doesn't sound pretty. 

 

— 

 

you don't get to draw blood on my back then tell me it won't scar. 

i can't see it, but i can definitely feel it. 

 

— 

 

i feel so deeply, heavily. 

even the most menial trivial things. 

a single fleeting moment, i could think about for hours. 

dissecting each second or millisecond that occurred. 

then i go on further by imagining it from different perspectives, as if from my own wasn't enough. 

nothing is ever enough. 

 

— 

 

the air is dense but fills my lungs lightly. 

the sky won't let a single color cling to it 

the breeze holds just enough dew to remind me that 

my head’s in the clouds.